Lyrics of Gulon Mein Rang Bhare

Gulon Main Rang Bhare Translated by Mustansir Dalvi

Translation of Gulon Mein Rang Bhare with Vocabulary

I am reading a poem of hope by the first poet laureate of California, Ina Coolbirth. I found out today that I share my birthday with her, an abode in California and after every winter, a spring. And apparently also, the philosophy of optimism and the metaphor of singing! Below is her poem, followed by a short biography. 

Today
If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

Baag Pa Kar Khafqani - Complete Ghazal

saaya-e-shaaKH-e-gul af.ii nazar aataa hai mujhe

Quotes and Poetry

Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn. ~Quoted by Lewis Grizzard in Kathy Sue Loudermilk, I Love You

Spring is nature's way of saying, "Let's party!" ~Robin Williams

Spring makes its own statement, so loud and clear that the gardener seems to be only one of the instruments, not the composer. ~Geoffrey B. Charlesworth

April prepares her green traffic light and the world thinks Go. ~Christopher Morley, John Mistletoe

Hee that is in a towne in May loseth his spring. ~George Herbert

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night. ~Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke

It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! ~Mark Twain

Hoe while it is spring, and enjoy the best anticipations. It is not much matter if things do not turn out well. ~Charles Dudley Warner

Awake, thou wintry earth -
Fling off thy sadness!
Fair vernal flowers, laugh forth
Your ancient gladness!
~Thomas Blackburn, "An Easter Hymn"

I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden. ~Ruth Stout

No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow. ~Proverb

Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush. ~Doug Larson

Science has never drummed up quite as effective a tranquilizing agent as a sunny spring day. ~W. Earl Hall

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome. ~Anne Bradstreet

The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hillside's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in His heaven -
All's right with the world!
~Robert Browning

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn. ~Hal Borland

Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world. ~Virgil A. Kraft

April is a promise that May is bound to keep. ~Hal Borland

Where man sees but withered leaves,
God sees sweet flowers growing.
~Albert Laighton

That God once loved a garden we learn in Holy writ.
And seeing gardens in the Spring I well can credit it.
~Winifred Mary Letts

In June as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day. No man can heed all of these anniversaries; no man can ignore all of them. ~Aldo Leopold

In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt. ~Margaret Atwood

Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes, the wind will presently disappear, the taxes last us all the year. ~Ogden Nash

And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Sensitive Plant"

Every spring is the only spring - a perpetual astonishment. ~Ellis Peters

Spring is sooner recognized by plants than by men. ~Chinese Proverb

The naked earth is warm with Spring,
And with green grass and bursting trees
Leans to the sun's kiss glorying,
And quivers in the sunny breeze.
~Julian Grenfell

In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours. ~Mark Twain

Our spring has come at last with the soft laughter of April suns and shadow of April showers. ~Byron Caldwell Smith, letter to Kate Stephens

Every April, God rewrites the Book of Genesis. ~Author Unknown

Under the giving snow blossoms a daring spring. ~Terri Guillemets

O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind? ~Percy Bysshe Shelley

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming. ~Pablo Neruda

[W]ell-apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads...
~William Shakespeare

I think that no matter how old or infirm I may become, I will always plant a large garden in the spring. Who can resist the feelings of hope and joy that one gets from participating in nature's rebirth? ~Edward Giobbi

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. ~Rainer Maria Rilke

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
~Robert Frost

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring. ~George Santayana

The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month. ~Henry Van Dyke

Spring is not the best of seasons.
Cold and flu are two good reasons;
wind and rain and other sorrow,
warm today and cold tomorrow.
~Author Unknown

The sun has come out... and the air is vivid with spring light. ~Byron Caldwell Smith, letter to Kate Stephens

I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees. ~Pablo Neruda

April hath put a spirit of youth in everything. ~William Shakespeare

Out with the cold, in with the woo. ~E. Marshall, "Spring Thought"

A little madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.
~Emily Dickinson

The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring. ~Bern Williams

Yesterday the twig was brown and bare;
To-day the glint of green is there;
Tomorrow will be leaflets spare;
I know no thing so wondrous fair,
No miracle so strangely rare.
I wonder what will next be there!
~L.H. Bailey

If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. ~Nadine Stair

The animal of winter is dying,
its white body everywhere
in collapse and stabbed at
by straws of   light,

Winter is leaving.  It is leaving like an animal would die. How apt for winter to be an animal - seasons are like organisms that are alive, and then they die.  It is as if straws of light were stabbing snow everywhere and making snow melt.  Thus a calm season is being replaced by a violent one.

                       a leaving
to believe in as the air
slowly fills with darkness

Spring

Green-shadowed people sit, or walk in rings,
Their children finger the awakened grass,
Calmly a cloud stands, calmly a bird sings,
And, flashing like a dangled looking-glass,
Sun lights the balls that bounce, the dogs that bark,
The branch-arrested mist of leaf, and me,
Threading my pursed-up way across the park,
An indigestible sterility.

Spring, of all seasons most gratuitous,
Is fold of untaught flower, is race of water,
Is earth's most multiple, excited daughter;

And those she has least use for see her best,
Their paths grown craven and circuitous,
Their visions mountain-clear, their needs immodest.

High Windows

When I see a couple of kids
And guess he's fucking her and she's
Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm,
I know this is paradise

Everyone old has dreamed of all their lives--
Bonds and gestures pushed to one side
Like an outdated combine harvester,
And everyone young going down the long slide

To happiness, endlessly. I wonder if
Anyone looked at me, forty years back,
And thought, That'll be the life;
No God any more, or sweating in the dark

About hell and that, or having to hide
What you think of the priest. He
And his lot will all go down the long slide
Like free bloody birds. And immediately

Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.


Coming

On longer evenings,
Light, chill and yellow,
Bathes the serene
Foreheads of houses.
A thrush sings,
Laurel-surrounded
In the deep bare garden,
Its fresh-peeled voice
Astonishing the brickwork.
It will be spring soon,
It will be spring soon —
And I, whose childhood
Is a forgotten boredom,
Feel like a child
Who comes on a scene
Of adult reconciling,
And can understand nothing
But the unusual laughter,
And starts to be happy.


The trees

The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.

Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too,
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.

Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.